


Second Love

by Artemis1000



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: During Canon, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Past Leliana/Marjolaine - Freeform, Relationship Study, Trust Issues, Unhardened Leliana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 00:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18109646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: “Get it into your head already: I’m not Marjolaine!” Morrigan flings words into Leliana’s face, as cutting and cold and precisely aimed as her ice spells.Morrigan always knows how to wound, both with words and spells.It’s true. They are nothing alike, Leliana’s first and second love. Marjolaine was a poisoned chalice. Morrigan is a saw sword to the heart.





	Second Love

**Author's Note:**

> This started out intended as a drabble to the prompt "second loves" but Leliana had a little more than 100 words to say about the subject.

“Get it into your head already: I’m not Marjolaine!” Morrigan flings words into Leliana’s face, as cutting and cold and precisely aimed as her ice spells.

Morrigan always knows how to wound, both with words and spells.

Leliana knows how to wound, too, but when she is with Morrigan, she finds herself wishing to heal instead.

“I know you are not,” she says and gently reaches for Morrigan’s hand. She permits it, and Leliana holds on tightly. “Nobody could mistake you for her.”

It’s true. They are nothing alike, Leliana’s first and second love.

Marjolaine was a poisoned chalice. Morrigan is a saw sword to the heart.

And yet…

“I know you have secrets - and so do I.” Leliana’s grip tightens, short, blunt nails digging into her skin with urgency. “But I have faith that we can share them with another in time.”

Morrigan snorts. She sits there in the middle of their tent; stiff, angry, half turned away from Leliana. She hasn’t yanked her hand back. “Of course you’d be prattling about faith again.”

Leliana shoots her an unimpressed look. It would take more than a half-hearted jab to distract her, Morrigan knows her better. “Please, Morrigan. Do not mistake my curiosity for distrust.”

It’s true. If Leliana did not trust her, she would not be here.

She would not be sharing Morrigan’s tent, still placed at a defiant distance from camp but at Leliana’s insistence, no longer quite so far away. She doesn’t like to stumble through the underbrush in the dark when she’s done singing her songs, she’d explained to Morrigan, and Morrigan had kindly refrained from pointing out that Leliana would never be caught doing anything as graceless as stumbling around in the dark. There would not be mage and Chantry robes hung side by side to dry on the makeshift laundry line, or a tiny statue of Andraste placed on top of Flemeth’s grimoire. Maybe Morrigan will never sing the Chant with her – and if that is so, Leliana will indeed mourn the loss – but with every passing day, their own songs are changing to something more in tune with another.

“I wish to learn and understand you better. It is not distrust that drives me, just curiosity…” She lowers her eyes, teeth catching on her bottom lip with a sudden wave of shame. “And my training, maybe,” she admits. ”I find it hard not to be nosy when there are secrets to be uncovered.”

Morrigan remains still and stiff, only her face betraying her inner turmoil. Leliana waits. She has filed away every remark about her past Morrigan made in passing, she was part of the group confronting Flemeth. She may not truly know her, not yet, but she has an inkling how hard it must be for Morrigan to trust – and to trust it won’t come back to haunt her.

“T’is ridiculous,” Morrigan scoffs and the tension leaves her as suddenly as if a candle had been snuffed out. Once the hostility leaves, weariness remains – as is usually the case, yet only Leliana is ever permitted to witness her weakness.

Forgiveness granted, Leliana leans against Morrigan and offers her own. Her witch’s arms snake around her, betraying by a grip too tight that their fight has disturbed Morrigan, too. Morrigan’s heart is far more vulnerable than she knows but that is alright, Leliana decides. She has Leliana to guard it for her.

“A secret then,” Morrigan says, her voice brisk, “a secret for a secret. It’s a fair trade.”

“It is,” Leliana agrees and lifts her head, capturing Morrigan’s lips in a kiss.

Like her first love, her second love has many secrets. Leliana is not vain enough to believe she could learn them all, or that Morrigan would permit it.

That is alright.

Leliana intends to have all the time in the world to learn as many of her secrets as Morrigan will grant her. For Morrigan may be a saw sword to the heart but Leliana is a blade, too, and she knows she can fight for this second love.


End file.
